


serpente.

by cl3rks



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Death, F/M, Laundromats, Laundry, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sarcasm, Tags TBA, blatant murder, i still think her name is eris not ares but whateverrrr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-10-04 01:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl3rks/pseuds/cl3rks
Summary: You just wanted to do your laundry, but the man was in the city on business, after all, and suddenly, you were his business.





	1. laundry.

**Author's Note:**

> I love John, I really do... but Santino is truly alluring.

You had been sitting in the laundromat for about two hours. It was the closest one to your little apartment, within walking distance, thankfully, as your car was being absolute garbage and you just wanted to wash your work uniform and get some sleep. 

Your own building’s washing machines and driers weren’t bad, but Steve from the fifth floor was always in there eating French onion dip (by itself) and sitting by the furnace with his cat, Chuckie, on his lap. He always struck up a conversation, too, especially about the god-awful sweater your great-grandmother had knitted you and telling you _exactly_ how to ruin it in the wash, _if you so pleased._ Now, he was completely harmless, he was just… about as odd as the rest of your apartment building, but you didn’t mind too much.

Going to an “out-of-house” laundromat was easier, anyway, because Staci (with an ‘I’, she’d never let you forget it) never moved her shit from the washer to the drier and always made out with her boyfriend, Kyle, right up against said-machine.

Your eyelids were heavy, and you were angry because your clothing had gone through the wash _just fine_ but the drier wasn’t getting with the program, and it was making your clothes feel humid and grossly damp rather than dry. It was frustrating, and you were about ready to take them home and dry them on the fan you had in your room when, well, all of a sudden, a luxuriously dressed man was walking in and another was following him, talking loudly about how this place was, _“usually empty at this hour, anyway,”_ and that they wouldn’t be bothered before the latter man stepped out of the way and a woman came up out of nowhere and all-about gutted the first one.

Well, if you weren’t awake before, you surely were now.


	2. little sparrow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come out... come out...

You hadn't moved from your spot, you didn't know where to go. Your body was in a stunned slump in your seat in the back of the laundromat. You saw the man who, you assumed, was now dead lying there in a pool of his own intensely dark blood. Your brain was empty as to what to do, but your body moved suddenly as the woman stood from her hunched position over him.

The second man looked around slightly, and that's when you dropped down to hide behind the washing machines in front of you. You took in a deep breath, your shoulders pushing against the metal.

“I think someone is here,” he stated, voice edged with caution. The woman didn't say anything, but you heard soft steps across the checkered tile floor. The man's voice had an accent, it was alluring, to say the least; you'd heard it before in the deli down the street. He's Italian, that's obvious, but this was not the time nor the place to get familiar. “Passerotta, come out, come out…” 

What did that mean? You had heard Salvatore say it numerous times to his granddaughter, Maddie, when she ran down from the apartment above the deli. It meant something about a bird, you were certain, but _again…_

Before you could move, as you took in a deep breath to run in an opposite direction, you were suddenly crowded by the intimidating women, her arm slinging around your neck to wrap tightly around it. You cried out, feeling your body being pulled tight against her smaller form, her arm taking much leverage over you as the man walked in front of you. Your fingers gripped her impressive bicep, eyes wide and terrified as the well-dressed man, quite handsome, too, tilted his head and spoke;

“Ah, there you are! What a pretty passerotta…”

The woman’s hold on your neck loosened when the man waved his hand, saying something (in sign language, it occurred to you) to get her to back-off. Your counter was quick, almost sputtered but a bit wittier than you intended. “It may just be this shitty lighting.”

“Mm, I don’t think so.”


	3. thunder.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Santino means well, you think; but you don't really care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> john wick 3 comes out tmrw and my body is readyyyyy. this chapter is a bit longer than the others!

He gave you a ride home, insisted upon it, with your half-dry laundry sitting beside you as he sat across from you. The woman he was with, Ares, as he mentioned, was more observant than most. She wouldn’t stop staring at you, but she was invested in the conversation, watching everything her boss was saying from her peripheral vision. You felt a bit cornered by her gaze and shifted nervously to show it.

(You were surprised they were comfortable enough with each other that she elbowed him, a small smile twisting at the corner of his lips.)

“I’m Santino,” he told you as he leaned forward, the soft sound of Italian-opera flooding the car’s speakers. “and what you just saw, is not to be talked about.”

“Or you’ll kill me?”

“I won’t, no,” he told you, voice even as he twisted one of the many thick rings on his fingers. “She will, she does all of that for me. Better than me getting my hands dirty; you see, if you want something done, get someone else to do it for you.”

You nodded slowly, pretending you agreed as you nibbled your lip. You eventually tasted blood and decided to just scratch your wrist, pick at your thumbnails; anything other than drawing more blood from your already iron-inked lips. You felt your hands start shaking as you were nearing your block, confident in your choice to tell him that you lived on this side of the alley; the side where it showed many different apartment buildings. 

(If you walked through that same alley, you could go through the hole in the chain-link fence to access the shitty, unkempt yard behind your _actual_ apartment building and use the maintenance entrance to go inside.)

Your fingers picked at the black leather interior as the car slowed, thunder rumbling overhead as the doors unlocked. The driver pressed the magic button that had you reaching for the handle with anxious-desperation. You pulled it, feeling the relief of the door opening as Santino grabbed your arm, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I’ll have my driver wait til you’re inside.” 

“I’ll be okay, you can go – thank you for the ride.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” You swallowed thickly, feeling the tension in your bones as Santino released your wrist. “Go on, passerotta.” 

You climbed out of the car, pulling your laundry basket with you before shutting the door with your foot, walking around the back of the car to the nearest apartment building. You took a deep breath and, for just a moment, _prayed_ that this shitty building had it’s front-fuckin’-door unlocked for your desperate-self. You shifted the basket to your hip and reached for the handle, twisting and giving a sigh of relief as the door opened at your pull.

You walked inside and shut the door behind you, hearing rain start to hit the building itself. You went into the main hallway and dipped into the first open door you found, using the window there to watch as the car pulled forward and drove around the block. To your dismay, the sleek Maserati looped around three times.

You waited for a fourth. The black SUV didn’t come around the corner again, but you still waited another five minutes before exiting the building as rain poured down upon you. You found you didn’t care, despite the bone-deep chill drilling into you. You quickly raced into the alley and pushed your basket of clothes through the hole in the chainlink fence before crouching and crawling through it yourself, feeling the metal bite into your skin. You kept your yelp to yourself and picked up your clothes, breaking into a light jog before going up to the maintenance door and knocking quickly.

It was a moment before it opened but when it did, you saw Vinny, the nightguard, standing there. He had a bemused look on his face but let you in, no questions asked. You heard him lock the door behind the both of you as you muttered a quick thanks before darting to the elevator and taking it up to your floor, nearly shaking with happiness as you reached your apartment.

You were quick to unlock it, practically flinging it open as you dropped your basket on the ground with little ceremony, shoving it aside with your foot before slamming your door shut. You bolted it, chained it, and then put a chair beneath the handle and a table against the chair. You heard your cat race past you as the little bell on her collar jingled, her presence warming to you as you peeled your wet clothes off. You heard them squelch as they hit the ground, much like the sound that man made as he hit the checkered tile.

You pulled on an oversized shirt before climbing into bed, staring at the ceiling as thunder shook the windows and lightning cast a blue-white glow within the apartment.

You found you couldn’t sleep and, instead, eventually passed out due to exhaustion much later than you imagined.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!!! more to come, updates won't be on a set schedule and the chapters will (most likely) be shorter.


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